


Close to Danger

by rapono



Category: Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen, One-Shot, Self-Indulgent, just a little scenario that popped into my head one morning, platonic, reader is gender-neutral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 13:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17101808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rapono/pseuds/rapono
Summary: You were supposed to be home alone, taking advantage of a workless day, but instead you woke to an unexpected visitor.





	Close to Danger

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little self indulgent thing I wrote. I debated whether or not to post this online, but I thought y'all would like it.
> 
> I've still got a couple of bigger pieces in the works, so look forward to those.

The morning was silent. Everyone else had already left, off to their jobs. There was just you, taking advantage of your day off by sleeping in. 

You'd just woken up, still groggy and in bed, contemplating whether or not to get up, when you heard the staircase creak. You froze, a little more awake. 

Nobody was supposed to be home.

Another sound, of shoes upon the hardwood floor.

Unsure of what to do, you decided not to move, but close your eyes and pretend you were still sleeping.

A minute later your door creaked open.

You lay there in near-perfect stillness, apart from the rise and fall of your chest. You could barely hear them, their footfalls almost silent. Afraid of what it could be, you opened your eyes a sliver to see who the intruder was.

Michael Myers was at your bedside, looming over you. You could hear it now, his breathing, echoed within the mask.

He cocked his head slightly, and a part of you knew that he knew the jig was up. So reluctantly, you opened both your eyes wide.

Yep, it was him alright, towering over you with his intimidating presence, a blood-coated blade in one hand.

Knowing running would be worthless, you did the one other thing you could do, apart from giving up. You decided to strike up a conversation with the silent shape.

“Heeeey Michael, nice seeing you here. Not sure why you decided to enter my home, but welcome.”

“…”

“I hope you didn’t murder any of my family on your way here.”

“…”

You glanced again at his knife. The blood seemed old, dried. Your family was probably safe. For now.

“So you’re probably gonna kill me, but may I have one last request before you do?”

He tilted his head again. Good, he was listening to you. 

Well, it was now or never.

“Could I, hug you?”

He seemed confused by your request. Well, at least he hadn’t said no, not yet anyways. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of your dumb request.

“I, I know it’s stupid, but I'd, I’d just, well, would really like a hug from you.”

He gave no answer, at least, no definitive yes or no, but after a few moments of silence, he took a step away from your bed, giving you room to get out of bed.

Taking that as a sign to get up, you did so, throwing your sheets off you and to the side, before drowsily getting up and standing before the legend.

Yep, he was still much taller than you.

“Uh, not sure if you said yes, so I’m just, I’m just gonna…”

Without another word, you wrapped your arms around his torso, and hugged him. You were tense, unable to properly enjoy it, fearing you’d feel the bite of the blade at any moment.

Instead, you felt his unarmed arm wrap around you, returning the embrace. All tension melted from you, as you leaned in a little more into his chest, able to feel its rise and fall.

“…thank you.”

You knew it was over now, your life ended too soon, with so much lost potential. But Michael fucking Myers had let you hug him, and had hugged you back.

You gripped his bloodstained coveralls as your eyes welled up, your chest threatening to heave with sobs. But you forced yourself to stay silent, oddly too embarrassed to wail infront of the mass murderer.

After a minute in his embrace, he took a step back, your arms falling slack to your sides as they lost their grip on him. You remained where you were, slumped, eyes cast to the ground, too afraid to look death in the eye. This was it, the end of you. 

In the corner of your eye, you saw him raise an arm, and you braced yourself for the metal kiss.

Instead, you felt his huge hand atop your head, blood-crusted fingers running gently through your hair. Confused, you looked up.

Michael was petting you, knife held loosely in his other hand, making to move to strike. With the sunshine beaming beaming down on him, you could see his eyes. They were were feel me dark, but somehow, warm.

Was he smiling?

With one last pat and ruffle of your hair, he stood up straight and rigid once more. Without another gesture, he turned towards your door, and left.

You stood there in awe, staring down the hall he'd both arrived from and disappeared down. For a moment, you considered that maybe this was a dream, a vivid subconscious fantasy.

Tears still stained your face, and his boot prints still dirted your floor.

You collapsed back onto your bed, staring at your ceiling wide eyed.

_Holy shit._


End file.
